


your perfume

by Bloodsbane



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: F/M, Possessive Behavior, Post-Alice "Daisy" Tonner in The Buried Fear Domain, Scent Marking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 07:53:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29648133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bloodsbane/pseuds/Bloodsbane
Summary: Jon leaves her desk not so long after, but doesn’t get back to work once he’s back in his office. Daisy’s there, listening to something on her phone while she organizes another box of files. She’s not looking at him now, but she was earlier. She’s been looking at him a lot, lately. Staring. She stands close, too. And touches him, at his back. She always seems to be at his back these days.
Relationships: Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist/Alice "Daisy" Tonner
Comments: 2
Kudos: 39





	your perfume

**Author's Note:**

> A small something I wrote on twitter for Nine <3 I liked it a lot so here it is too!
> 
> Some clarifications and small CWs:  
> > the possessive behavior here is just in reference to daisy like... hovering around jon and stepping in when a rando takes an interest in him  
> > scene where a rando takes interest in jon! flirts creepily and touches jon's arm without consent

“...Daisy?” 

“Hm.”

Jon looked over his shoulder, then back at Daisy. “Is there… um…”

“What?”

“Why are you staring at me?”

Daisy didn’t answer, only continued staring. Jon fidgeted a bit in his chair. He’d felt the weight of Daisy’s gaze on his back for at least ten minutes, had been silently anticipating… something. He didn’t know! He wanted to know, but it didn’t seem like Daisy understood it herself. 

“Sorry,” she told him, not really sounding sorry, but at least acknowledged that it was strange behavior by turning purposefully away, back to the box of statements she’d been organizing. Jon left her to it, and tried not to make it obvious when he felt her gaze on him again. 

* * *

This didn’t happen often. Actually, Jon could count on one hand the instances in which he’d been approached in public and openly flirted with. Maybe there were more he hadn’t registered as flirting, but he seriously doubted it. He was always so surprised when it happened, though, and instantly on edge, and this latest stranger’s attempt was seriously not helping. 

“Wanna get outta here?” the man asked, and put a hand on Jon’s arm. Just underneath his elbow, so it was harder to pull away without making it obvious. Jon did so anyway, trying to put distance between them — an impossible task given the tiny bar stools. He glanced around, but couldn’t find Basira or Daisy in the crowd. They were only supposed to be gone for a few minutes-

“Hey, don’t you know it’s rude to ignore people when they’re talking to you?” The fingers returned, becoming greedy, unsubtle. 

“Let go of me,” Jon told the man. Then, “Please,” because he really didn’t want to have to do anything other than that. He could tell the man wouldn’t have anything especially interesting to say, if Jon Asked, but Asking would be enough to get him to leave. 

Before anything else could happen, though, he saw the shock of blonde in the dark crowd, and all at once Daisy was at his side. “Hey, sorry for taking a while,” she told him. Her hand came to settle on his lower back. With Jon on the bar stool, he was nearly at eye-level with Daisy, and he could feel her breath in his hair. “Making friends?” Her tone made it clear what she thought of Jon’s ‘friend’. 

The guy resisted, just for a minute, glaring back at Daisy. “Who’s this bitch?”

“I’m the bitch that’s going to break your wrist if you don’t let go of him.” There was the hint of a growl in her voice. 

Jon carefully turned towards Daisy, just enough so their sides were pressed against each other. “Daisy,” he warned, softly, glancing up at her. 

The guy scoffed, releasing Jon with an unnecessary, bitter flourish. “Fucking whatever,” he spat, then left. 

Daisy stayed close the rest of the night, and seemed unwilling to keep from touching Jon for too long.

* * *

“Hey Daisy, do you know if- oh, it’s you.” 

“Yes?” Jon placed the statement on Basira’s desk and gave her a look. “What made you think I was Daisy?”

“I- I dunno, honestly.” Basira stared at him for a minute, thinking. Then she said, an odd tone in her voice, “I think it’s because I smelled you first, and you smell like her?”

Now Jon was really confused. “Do I really?”

“Sort of. Like that perfume she uses.”

Jon’s brows shot up. “Daisy wears perfume?” 

“You haven’t noticed. Yeah, it’s like, really subtle, but it’s there. Sort of floral I guess? Hard to notice, but I got used to it in the patrol car, easier to smell in a small space like that. And… it’s been a while, so I noticed when she started wearing it again.”

“Oh.”

“You’re not super attentive, Jon,” Basira tells him, the ghost of a smile on her lips. “You probably just got used to it, given she hangs around in your office so much. So it never registered.”

“Oh,” Jon says again. 

Jon leaves her desk not so long after, but doesn’t get back to work once he’s back in his office. Daisy’s there, listening to something on her phone while she organizes another box of files. She’s not looking at him now, but she was earlier. She’s been looking at him a lot, lately. Staring. She stands close, too. And touches him, at his back. She always seems to be at his back these days. 

Jon, having just come back into the room, closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He thinks he can smell it now — it’s very faint, delicate. If Daisy really is wearing perfume, she probably only puts on a little. He wonders if she dabs it on her wrists, or puts it on her neck. He wonders if he’ll often smell like Daisy, now. He wonders if she’s noticed that he does, and thinks, suddenly understanding, that she’d probably like it. 

And with that thought, he can’t help but blush, and finally (desperately) dive back into his work. 


End file.
